Getting Lost
by Lucy-Cakes
Summary: Beverly had done all she could, and her patient was still with them. So why was it that she felt so hopeless? Contains description of depression, potentially triggering for those who are sensitive to the topic.


**Author's note: It's been a while since I posted any fanfic, but I'm glad to be back. This one-shot involves descriptions of low-mood and depression, and therefore is POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING for those who are sensitive to its content. It is not my intention to trigger, rather my sincere wish that this brings an experience of the disease to those who can't understand it. This, of course, isn't how it happens for everyone, everyone has very different experiences. Please rate and review. **

"Damn it!"

Beverly turned away from her patient, her eyes filling with tears of frustration which she quickly fought against.

"Doctor, his life signs are stabilising," Alyssa Ogawa informed her, slightly confused. "We saved him."

The Doctor turned back towards her.

"We didn't save all of him."

Her eyes rested upon the amputated limb on the next table. It was gangrenous, and that had been the problem. It was slowly killing her patient. A patient they didn't even know the name of yet.

"But Doctor, you had no choice. The tissue was so toxic there was nothing else we could do."

Of course, Beverly knew this. Any other day, she'd have told herself the exact same and have been confident that she'd done the right thing. Today, however, something within her strong persona had snapped. She had had enough.

"I'm going to shower. Tell Dr Solar to keep him under close observation and call me if there's any change. Then you can go Alyssa."

Alyssa nodded. She'd never seen her superior so disheartened and so uncertain of herself, and it was disconcerting. But then she reasoned that Dr Crusher had been working for hours on end, ever since John Doe had been beamed aboard by the away team, so it stood to reason that she would be tired and therefore on a short fuse. After a few hours sleep, no doubt perspective would reign supreme again.

Beverly showered, growing more lethargic with each movement. She felt like she wanted to cry, but she couldn't. What in hell was wrong with her? She needed to go home. She needed to sleep.

Her quarters were a sight for sore eyes, but everything seemed removed from her. She could touch things, but she didn't exactly feel them beneath her fingers. Bed. That was what she needed. She lay down and curled up on her side. Sleep came quickly.

X

"Nurse Ogawa to Dr Crusher."

Beverly's eyes opened very slowly.

"Crusher here," she sighed, not moving.

"Doctor, it's 0900. Are you alright?"

Beverly barely reacted to the fact that she was late for the first time in her life.

"I'm fine Alyssa. I'm sorry, I'll be right down."

She hauled herself out of bed, dressed, and headed to sickbay. It was the last place she wanted to be, but there was still that nagging part of her brain that told her she had a job to do.

"How is John Doe?" she asked Alyssa.

"He's stable and there was a slight improvement in his heart rate and blood pressure overnight."

"Good. Continue the observation. I'll just go round the other patients."

She did her rounds, but they took her longer than usual and she couldn't concentrate.

"Doctor, would you like to check on Lieutenant Baxter's shoulder or shall I just send him for physio?"

"Ah... send him for physio. I'll do a check-up at the end of the week."

Dr Crusher returned to reading her notes, unaware that Alyssa's gaze lingered over her for a few moments. What did her notes even say? She'd read them at least four times, yet still she couldn't summarise what they articulated. What in the hell was wrong with her today?

She cast them aside and retreated into her office. She just needed five minutes. She just had to pull herself together. Her head fell easily into her hands and she exhaled slowly. Great tidal waves of noise battered against her skull, there was a roar in her ears that was both deafening and silent. Her eyes closed, willing the sound away, or perhaps she was willing the sound to return. She wasn't sure.

"Beverly?"

She looked up and saw Deanna stood there.

"Beverly, what's wrong?" she asked, her large eyes full of concern. "I felt you were distressed."

"Deanna... I just don't know. I feel... I feel hopeless."

Deanna went round the desk and sat on it so she was facing her friend. She rubbed her arm comfortingly.

"Whatever this is, we will get you through it," she said to her, looking her square in the eye.

She said it with such conviction that Beverly nodded. She was scared, but calm. Lost, but found by those around her when she needed them most. Her family didn't just rescue people from alien planets, they rescued their own from themselves too.


End file.
